I'm Dreaming Of A White Christmas
by ClaraNoblePond
Summary: When the Twelfth Doctor lands in a seemingly ordinary English Christmastime evening, he finds himself seeing a particularly young and meaningful familiar face he'd never dreamed of talking to again... a little one-off I did as a challenge. Enjoy!


**DISCLAIMER: I do not in any way, shape or form own Doctor Who. I'm merely borrowing its characters and its world to create a story.**

The Doctor looked up and marveled at the white flecks coming down around him. Not the remnants of an obliterated ship, not even an illusion... just snow. Real, organic snow falling from the sky and getting caught in his newly grey hair, accenting it and making him seem a bit more close to the age he really was. Though he looked much older than the first time he'd been on this street, his physical appearance still didn't do his real age justice in the slightest.

The Timelord was brought out of his reverie as yet another anxious Christmas shopper shoved him back into a steadily growing mound of snow. He glared, putting his eyebrows to good use. Shoppers. He couldn't stand them. All whizzing about, never caring about anything but themselves. Oh, sure, they were going to buy presents for other people. But he'd be willing to bet his own TARDIS that half the people resented having to buy for others and that the other half decided to use this trip on themselves and postpone the real gift shopping for later.

Humans. How could they stand each other?

Of course, some of them weren't all that bad. Take Clara, for instance.

Oh, Clara...

He'd lost her. Again. Not because of her dying, thank Gallifrey. She'd just... decided to stop following him into his magical machine (he'd tried to explain that, really, it was all quite mechanical and logical, but everyone called it magic anyways). Like Martha Jones, she'd seen the real danger of traveling with him and gotten off the ride before she got torn to pieces. Of course, that ending was much preferable to the ones previous companions of his had gotten. Just recently, with Rory and -

Suddenly, the Doctor looked down to see the thing that had just collided with him. That thing happened to be a small girl with a comically large red hat, a little blue coat, and hair that seemed to be on fire. Her curious eyes gazed up at him, fixed in awe. His eyes held the same expression in them. If this was indeed where he'd been meaning to go (which was quite likely), and if he'd messed up the landing year again by a few years (which he often did), and if he had remembered that night correctly (which he was sure he had), then it was very probable that this child was...

"Hello, my name is Amelia Jessica Pond. Are you Santa Clause?"

The Doctor bent down so as to be face-to-face with the little girl he'd never thought he'd see again.

"Am I Santa Clause?"

"Yes, sir," Amelia (or, as she would come to be called, Amy) said, nodding her head to erase any doubts about her answer. "That was my question."

"And why would you think I was Santa Clause?"

"Well, you just kind of look like a Santa Clause, really, if you know what I mean," Amelia replied, looking confused. "I - I don't know really, you - you just look like you'd be him."

The Doctor couldn't help but give a hint of a smile. Amy was the woman who had traveled with him, dragged her husband along, and been the mother of his technically lawfully wedded wife. But Amelia, who was now standing here right in front of him, was the one who had saved him on that terribly hard night of regeneration so long ago.

"Well, Amelia Jessica Pond, I'll let you in on a little secret."

Amelia leaned in closer, excitement burning in her eyes.

"I am not Santa Clause."

The Doctor felt a pang of guilt as Amelia's face fell, and fell hard. He'd expected it, but it still reminded him of what she must have looked like after she'd waited a whole night for him to return to her and whisk her away all those years ago.

"However, I do know Santa. And I can promise that, if you tell me what you want for Christmas, I'll put in a good word for you."

Amelia started to smile again, and though he couldn't believe he'd just told such a ridiculous lie, the glee on her face was enough.

"So. What is it you want, Miss Pond?"

The girl's face became serious, and she whispered quietly, so quietly that the Doctor could barely hear her.

"I want someone to take me away."

The Doctor stared, and Amelia straightened up as much as she could, and added in a pleading voice,

"Please, sir. I just want an adventure, that's all. I want to believe there's something more than this."

"AMELIA JESSICA POND!" came a loud shout from across the square.

"Oh shoot, that's my aunt. I've gotta go!" Amelia raced through the snow, hurriedly stuffing her gloves on her hands.

The Doctor watched her leave. At the last second she turned, waved her hand goodbye, and then disappeared behind a new gust of snow.

He never saw her again.


End file.
